


ode to a conversation stuck in your throat

by bebe8s



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Eddie Kaspbrak, Oblivious Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Slow Burn, Soft Richie Tozier, kind of, more like medium burn, stuart little as a way of flirting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:15:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25586533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bebe8s/pseuds/bebe8s
Summary: Richie and Eddie have a rhythm. Their friendship just makes sense. Richie would tease Eddie and annoy the fuck out of him, and then Eddie would get mad and go on one of his adorable rants, and then they would both secretly love their daily routine of bickering, and then they would restart the cycle. Neither of them would ever admit that they love it, though. The serious part of their friendship just went unsaid. Mainly because Richie couldn't risk looking Eddie in the eye and telling him how much he cares about him without also revealing that he's, uh, in love with him.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 40
Kudos: 94





	1. i do not want to fight this anymore

**Author's Note:**

> i am back to drop another college reddie au on you all... again based on a del water gap song... it's my brand!
> 
> here's the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1UoM25Q5PaXNXfmbH5xW0M?si=3RBEZ_9lQq-0BY2c_nHIFg) for this fic!! title of the fic (and all chapters, too) comes from the first song on this playlist, which is very reddiecore!!
> 
> also, this is my favorite note i have ever written: moderate stuart little spoilers ahead!

Richie and Eddie have a rhythm. Their friendship just makes sense. Richie would tease Eddie and annoy the fuck out of him, and then Eddie would get mad and go on one of his adorable rants, and then they would both secretly love their daily routine of bickering, and then they would restart the cycle. Neither of them would ever  _ admit _ that they love it, though. The serious part of their friendship just went unsaid. Mainly because Richie couldn't risk looking Eddie in the eye and telling him how much he cares about him without also revealing that he's, uh, in  _ love  _ with him. 

Currently, Eddie and Richie were both sprawled out on Richie's couch watching some random episode of  _ It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia _ . They were sitting at opposite ends, but their legs were tangled together in the middle. Which was normal for friends. At least Richie thinks. He has to constantly remind himself not to read into anything with Eddie. He can't get his hopes up just to be absolutely heartbroken when Eddie goes  _ Oh, sorry, dude. I thought we were just best friends. _

Richie knows it's ridiculous and he's some cliché. The whole "realizing you're gay because you're in love with your best friend" thing seems overdone. But unfortunately, that's his situation (and maybe the reason it seems overdone is because it's universal to the gay experience, he thinks).

Richie had come out to his friends the minute they stepped foot on their New York campus freshman year. Back in Derry, he was always afraid that someone would  _ know _ . But now, out here with his best friends in a more accepting city, he was ready to be himself for the first time in his entire 18 years of living. Now they're in their third year of college, and Richie has been faced with a brand fucking new challenge. See, sometime in their first few weeks of this semester, Eddie casually told everyone that he was gay. And by  _ casually _ , Richie means that one Sunday morning, as they were all arriving at Mike, Ben, and Eddie's apartment for their weekly brunch, Eddie came out of his room with hickies decorating his neck. And then he was followed by some tall, broad guy with matching marks on his skin. And then they kissed. And then the guy just  _ left _ . 

Richie has been in crisis mode ever since. He doesn't really remember anything from that particular brunch because he's pretty sure he blacked out. See, he had come to terms with never being with Eddie because he was  _ straight _ . But, now he wasn't. Now he was an  _ option _ . 

What Richie  _ does  _ remember is that Eddie had said that guy was just a hookup, and that he wasn't seeing anyone. In Eddie's words, he was just "feeling it out" for the time being, and just seeing what it was like to "finally be himself" for once in his life. Which Richie understood, because coming from a tiny, homophobic town and learning to accept yourself was not so easy. He knew from experience that it took time and effort. That didn't really make it much better, though; but at least he was technically available. At least he could  _ possibly  _ feel the same way as Richie. 

Richie knew logically that he needed to move on. And he tried -- he really did. He hooked up with guys at parties. He tried to limit the amount of his day spent thinking about Eddie. He spent hours reminding himself that just because Eddie was gay, it didn't mean he was into Richie like  _ that _ .

Nothing really worked, though. Richie was still aimlessly pining after Eddie. Bev was the only one he had talked to about his feelings. Living together kind of makes it difficult to keep secrets. Luckily, Bev was the best goddamn friend in the world, and she would always steer the conversation away from Richie (or Eddie's) love life. She only ever brought it up in private, normally when she felt Richie was being particularly stupid. Sure, sometimes she'd give him a  _ look _ whenever he was flirting with Eddie, but that was mainly just because she was teasing him.

But no one else knew. At least, he's never  _ told  _ anyone else. He knows Ben doesn't know, because even though he's dating Beverly, she would never tell his secret like that. He's pretty sure Stan has some suspicions, but he doesn't  _ know _ . Mike probably knows, too. Mike always seems to be one step ahead of everyone else, and in the most caring way possible. Richie was  _ positive  _ that Bill was completely clueless, though, because he was Bill.

Richie is brought back from his thoughts when Eddie kicks at him. 

"Hey, dumbass, I asked you a question," Eddie grumbled.

"Yeah, I'm not gonna lie to you, Eds. I was 100% not listening at all and I'm gonna need you to repeat whatever you said."

Eddie rolls his eyes. "I hate you. I asked if you wanted to order in some food. I don't feel like cooking anything, and I don't trust you to cook-"

"Hey! I'm a  _ good  _ cook! I will not stand for this homophobic slander!"

"You're right. I said you can't cook just because you're gay. Also, I think there are  _ several  _ scorched pots and pans that would agree with me. Anyway, we could go somewhere, but that would require going in public, and I don't need anyone to associate us together when you're wearing  _ that _ ," Eddie said, motioning to Richie's t-shirt. Richie looked down at his shirt. It had a pool cue and an 8-ball on it, and said "Before I sink this shot, could I ask you a question? Who's your  daddy mama?" It was one of his classic goodwill finds.

"What's wrong with my shirt?" Richie complains, but Eddie just steamrolls past that comment.

"The point is, I don't wanna go out in public and I don't wanna cook either, whether it's here or at my place later, so do you want to order in or should I just go home and discuss this with Mike and Ben?"

"I'll see what's on DoorDash if you wanna check UberEats. Also, I'm gonna text Bev before we order and see if she wants me to get anything for her, since I'm the best fuckin' roommate out there, baby! Although, I'm willing to bet Benny Boy is gonna give her a  _ delicious  _ dinner," Richie said with a waggle of his eyebrows. "And probably dessert, too."

Eddie scoffs and says, "You're gross."

They ultimately decide on a local Italian place, which Richie considers a win because Eddie typically has a no Italian rule around him (because of the whole Eddie Spaghetti thing). Richie lets Eddie punch in his order while he waits for a text from Bev. Just as Eddie passes Richie his phone back, he gets a text from Bev.

**Bevvie (6:34 PM):** nah, i'm eating with ben, but thanks!!

**Big Dick Tozier (6:37 PM):** i bet u are

**Bevvie (6:37 PM):** blocked

Richie enters his order, which is, of course, spaghetti, and hits submit. 

"Alright, food's gonna be here at approximately 7:18, so looks like we've got plenty of time to kill. Should we watch another episode or are we in the mood to switch to a movie?"

Eddie glances at Richie, contemplating something in his head, before opening his mouth, "See, I could go for a movie, but I'm terrified of which movie you would want to watch."

"Eds, come on, I only watch the  _ best  _ cinema. I'll even give you three choices. Let me check Netflix real quick to make sure I choose something easily accessible and with subtitles."

Richie scrolls through the Netflix app on his phone for a moment, not wanting to give away what he's considering by using the TV to check. He finally decides on three movies and looks back up at Eddie with a shit-eating grin. Eddie already looks like he has deeply regretted his choice to switch to a movie.  _ It's Always Sunny  _ was a safe bet, but now that he's opened the floor up to suggestions from Richie, things are dangerous.

"Alright, here are tonight's options: the enthralling  _ Spiderwick Chronicles _ , the irresistible  _ Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa _ , or the 1999 classic  _ Stuart Little _ ."

"Okay, stop always suggesting  _ Stuart Little _ . Literally every time we watch a movie you throw that in," Eddie immediately complains.

"It's a classic film! Come on, a mouse being adopted by a family? That's just wacky! Plus, it has Hugh Laurie and Geena Davis! We're talking  _ House  _ and  _ Thelma & Louise _ ! And it was written by M. Night Shyamalan! Anyway, once you pick it, I'll stop suggesting it."

"Fine,  _ Stuart Little  _ it is," Eddie concedes. Richie is overflowing with joy as he finds it on the TV.

"Alright, Eds, I should warn you: I'm a pretty big fan. I mean, with this all star cast and fantastic plot, who wouldn't be? The point is, get ready for the ultimate experience because I have  _ excellent  _ commentary and fun facts for you."

"Oh, wonderful," Eddie sighs sarcastically as the movie begins.

Sure enough, Richie starts his commentary as soon as the movie begins.

"Okay, Eds, just imagine this - you're an orphan, at an orphanage, and these parents come and you're thinking maybe today's the day. Maybe you're about to get adopted. And then they come and see all the kids and decide to take the fucking talking  _ mouse _ !" Richie rants as the Little's enter the orphanage on screen.

"Yeah, but Stuart was reading  _ Little Women  _ when they first met him. That's impressive. Maybe they wanted a kid with a high reading level." Eddie pauses, before adding, "Plus, you can't tell me you wouldn't jump at the opportunity to raise a mouse as your child."

"Fair point. I would make an excellent mouse daddy. But, like, I would rather adopt a kid that can grow to be as gangly and annoying as me."

"Impossible. No one is or ever will be as gangly and annoying as you."

"Well, yeah, but a mouse wouldn't even get close," Richie points out. Eddie is quiet for a moment before saying, "I'm very interested in this concept of you raising a child. I figured you would definitely just chill with a bunch of strange animals. Like, a bearded dragon, and maybe a ferret, definitely a few frogs, and probably a bird, too."

"What, you don't think I could be a kick ass dad? Dude, I'm already there with the jokes, and almost there with the fashion. You think I don't  _ already  _ own seven different pairs of New Balances for different occasions? I was  _ born  _ to be a dad, baby," Richie replies, trying to keep himself from thinking about the whole talking-about-kids-with-Eddie thing. That's banned for him, mostly because if he thinks too much about anything even slightly domestic involving Eddie, he's pretty sure he will pass out. Richie redirects his attention back to the TV.

"I love how they bring home Stuart and their son is immediately calling them on their bullshit. He just straight up asks 'No really, where's my new brother?' I have respect for that kid," Eddie says. Richie nods somberly in agreement.

"George Little really knows what's up. Though he's too little to race his toy boat. Let's have a moment of silence for that, because we're about to see some tragic bullying."

Eddie suddenly sits up a little more in his seat. "Oh my god! Do you remember that time we were walking by Central Park and some tour guide tried to get us to pay for a tour by telling us he could show us where the Stuart Little boat race happened?" 

"Of course I do. Bill and I wanted to do it but  _ you  _ said no!" Richie whined. 

"It was, like, thirty fucking dollars! We can do it on our own without a stupid tour guide."

Richie looks down at his lap, shaking his head sadly, "But will we? No. It will forever be a dream unrealized for me."

"Okay, fine, we can go and see the boat race spot whenever you want, but we're not paying for a tour. Let's just google where it is," Eddie finally concedes. 

"I'm holding you to that, Eds," Richie says back. It's quiet again for a moment before Richie starts talking again. "You know, this is really some anti-cat propaganda. Why do the cats have to be the antagonists? Like, they're not that bad!"

"Dude, right now their cat Snowbell is  _ watching  _ Stuart get stuck in the washing machine and he's doing  _ nothing _ !" Eddie argues back, hands thrown up in exasperation. 

"He's a  _ cat _ ! What is he supposed to do, grow opposable thumbs and open the door himself? He can't exactly speak to the mom!"

"He could have done  _ something _ !"

"The mom gets back and sees Stuart before anything bad happens! Stuart isn't even harmed!"

Eddie huffs and crosses his arms. Richie wasn't really expecting to spend his day arguing over aspects of  _ Stuart Little _ , but he is really glad that he is. As he watches Stuart and Snowbell have a conversation in the movie, Richie thinks of another thought that will absolutely drive Eddie nuts.

"Eds, I have a serious question. If Stuart can speak English and interact with humans, but he can  _ also  _ speak to the cat, but the cat can't speak to humans, does that mean that Stuart is bilingual?"

Eddie turns and looks at him with so much contempt in his eyes, and Richie loves every bit of it.

"That might be the dumbest fucking thing you have ever asked," Eddie sighs. Richie waits a few moments before his next comment, since he knows it's going to be a game changer. He reaches out and pauses the screen the moment he sees what he's looking for.

"Look! See that painting? That's a 1920s painting by Hungarian painter Róbert Berény called  _ Sleeping Lady with Black Vase _ . It had been lost since 1928, and some set dresser had unknowingly bought it for the Little's house. Anyway, in like, 2009, or something, some art historian was watching this with his kid and he saw it. He was able to find the painting by contacting the studios. But listen, the set dresser bought that painting for $500. In 2014, the owner of the painting sold it for over $250,000. That set dresser got the steal of the century."

Eddie stares at Richie, completely dumbfounded. " _ Why  _ do you know all of that? Like, there was so much detail. You can't even remember where you put your shoes half the time, how can you possibly remember all that random shit about a painting in  _ Stuart Little _ ?"

"Simple: it's important. My shoes are boring and do not involve an art history semi-scandal with  _ Stuart Little _ . Like, tell me that is not the craziest story you've heard this week? You can't," Richie defends, just as his phone vibrates with the notification that their food has arrived.

A few minutes later they're still on the couch, but this time with take out containers of food in front of them. 

"I cannot believe you got spaghetti," Eddie complains.

"Of course I did, Eds! You won't give me a bite of you, so I gotta get my filling somewhere else!"

With his plate sitting haphazardly in his lap, Richie digs in. He has exactly one tiny napkin, which will definitely be used. He leans his head back and brings a long forkful of spaghetti to his mouth, lowering it in dramatically. Eddie rolls his eyes and grumbles something about him being gross. 

"What do you think, Eds? Should we  _ Lady and the Tramp  _ it? You can be the lady, since I'm definitely the tramp."

"Do you ever think about the words you're saying, or do you just say them?"

Richie shrugs. "I mainly just say them. It's more fun that way."

Richie continues to carelessly eat his spaghetti, pretending not to love the disgusted looks Eddie is giving him. Eddie, however, has brought out a tray table (that Richie bought and keeps in the apartment  _ specifically  _ for Eddie) and has his food neatly set up, napkin in his lap and all. He's eating his pasta without any close calls or mishaps, much unlike Richie.

"Eddie, you eat like a grandma. Live a little. Take a risk!" Richie encourages. Right after he finishes talking, though, the noodles piled onto Richie's too-full fork lose a battle with gravity and he drops a big glob of spaghetti onto the couch, staining the cushion.

"You were saying?" Eddie asks condescendingly, bringing his fork to his mouth without a mess.

"Dude, I'm 20 years old. You think I care about a marinara stain on my couch?"

"I think you _ should _ !"

"Doesn't change the fact that I don't."

\---

The rest of the movie continues the same way: Richie thinking of the dumbest possible things to say and Eddie going slightly crazier each time, before he eventually just gives up and slaps a hand over Richie's mouth.

It's weirdly erotic for Richie. It probably shouldn't be.

Of course, Eddie pulls his hand off seconds later, once Richie has been successfully silenced. But the feeling of Eddie's hand on his face stays with Richie until the credits start to roll. And honestly, much longer than that. 

"Okay, I have to admit that it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," Eddie says with a shrug.

"See! I told you, Eds.  _ Stuart Little  _ is a cinematic masterpiece and the fact that it was only nominated for  _ one  _ Oscar haunts me every day. I guess the masses just don't get good films. It's a shame."

"I'm sorry,  _ Stuart Little  _ was nominated for an Academy Award?" Eddie's jaw drops as he speaks in disbelief.

"Yes! For Best Visual Effects in 1999. It lost to  _ The Matrix _ . Probably the biggest snub in the history of The Academy," Richie said solemnly. Eddie was amazed that he could be so serious about this topic.

"I really hate that you know that. Specifically, I hate that you know so much about  _ Stuart Little _ . It's slightly alarming."

"What can I say? I like to learn important things."

Eddie rolled his eyes as he started pulling on his shoes. In a world where Richie had just a  _ smidge  _ less self control, he would pretend it's ridiculously late and use that to justify asking him to stay over. Asking him to spend the night, share a bed even, just like they used to do when they were younger. But it feels like that would be too much. It feels like Richie's holding his feelings in with some old scotch tape that is losing its stickiness. Everything is so different now, so much more serious, and Eddie would probably think it's weird for Richie to offer. (And Richie was also pretty sure he would wake up with the worst morning wood of all time, which would completely reveal his feelings for Eddie without him even opening his mouth.)

"Alright, Mr. Spaghetti Man! I shall see you tomorrow, try not to get any shorter in the meantime," Richie walked Eddie to the door of his apartment, which was like ten steps away from the couch they were on, but still. It's the gesture that matters. 

"I am average height and you are a giant, gangly, annoying version of Gumby. If  _ you  _ were average height, you would realize that."

Richie laughs at that, joy flooding through his entire body. Maybe it's okay that he doesn't have any chance at being  _ more  _ with Eddie. Maybe this is enough. 

"Kiss goodbye?" Richie jokes, leaning forward slightly. Eddie rolls his eyes and continues out the door.

"Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow, Rich. Don't get murdered before then, I guess," Eddie turns back to him before leaving the apartment and Richie takes the opportunity to salute him. 

\---

As soon as the door shuts, Richie lets out an exasperated breath. He'd say he didn't even know he was holding it, but he did know. He was  _ extremely  _ conscious of every single thing he had done in the past four and a half hours of Eddie time. 

More than that, he was extremely conscious of every single thing  _ Eddie  _ had done in the past four and a half hours. Like when he put his hand over Richie's mouth. What the fuck was that? Richie was going to be thinking about that for years to come (both literally and figuratively, because he's so gone for Eddie that simple contact is enough to make him horny).

Richie doesn't really know what to do now. It's almost 8:30, which is way too early to go to sleep, but he has nothing else to do either. He elects to plop back down on the couch and find something on TV. After scrolling mindlessly through the channels, he decides on an old  _ Jeopardy!  _ rerun. Sometimes he likes to pick a few facts to memorize and randomly drop on the Losers, solely because it freaks Stan out. And also maybe because it gets a rise out of Eddie. But mainly the Stan thing.

One time he memorized the fact that the 1994-1996 fishing dispute between Canada and Spain was known as the Turbot War, and while that knowledge is completely useless, it was worth it to hear Stan's sigh (and to see Eddie trying  _ so hard  _ not to find a way to get mad at him for knowing that random fact).

It's not long before he hears Beverly's keys jangle outside the door, and he's glad to have some company. When he's alone with his thoughts, he's thinking about Eddie. Even though he's also thinking about Eddie when he's with other people, it's at least a little less prevalent. She swings open the door, immediately met with Richie saying, "You know, if they had a  _ Stuart Little  _ category on  _ Jeopardy!  _ I would absolutely sweep. We're talking every single clue."

"It's too bad you would probably get nothing else right." Bev enters the apartment and toes her shoes off, tossing her keys on the little table by the door before walking over to Richie.

"Hey, that's mean! I'm smarter than I look," Richie defends. 

"Maybe, but I would  _ never  _ admit that and you know it. Also, why do you know so much about  _ Stuart Little _ ?"

"It's a classic. Anyway, how's Handsome Hanscom? Are you properly  _ sated _ ?" Richie asks with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Bev scrunches her face up in distaste. "I am going to move out if you keep being gross."

"Hey! I didn't say anything bad! I just asked if you were satisfied since you stayed for dinner. Maybe it's your mind that's in the gutter, Marsh."

"Ben is good. Very good. I miss him already, honestly." She pauses. "When are you and Eddie going to figure your shit out so that Ben and I can move in together? We could do an easy apartment swap if you two would just cut the shit and fuck already."

"I do not know what you are talking about." The blush spreading across Richie's cheeks betrays him. "Okay, maybe I do. Am I that obvious?"

"Not just you. When Eddie got back to their apartment, I swear he had heart eyes."

"In my dreams, Marsh. Plus -- how easy could this apartment swap even be? Is one couple just going to have an awkward third roommate?"

"Actually, no. Ben, Mike, and I have it all figured out. So Eddie would move in here and I would move in with Ben. That's the obvious part. But Stan's getting pretty serious Patty and is probably going to move in with her soon anyway, so he would do that and then Mike could move in with Stan. Boom. A perfect apartment swap where none of us have to awkwardly overhear the other getting laid or, uh, getting self-laid." Beverly gives Richie a look that tells him he maybe should be quieter. Another flush covers his cheeks, but he pushes past it.

"Well, that's a cute plan, Bev, but since there isn't anything between me and Eddie, it's just not gonna happen."

"Maybe there would be if you would just  _ talk to him _ !"

"I suddenly cannot speak English anymore. Unfortunately, I do not understand anything you are saying." Richie says in a strong French accent, looking around their apartment as if he was in a foreign environment. He gets up and turns towards the hallway, beginning to walk away.

"You suck. Where are you going?"

"Away from this slander!" Richie dramatically throws his head back with his hand over his forehead, feigning insult.

"Shut up, Trashmouth. Come watch  _ Chopped  _ with me."

"Okay, you have made a valid point and I will stay. But ixnay on the aghettispay."

"Wow, I had no idea you were bilingual. That's very impressive," Beverly jokes, using the remote to find a  _ Chopped  _ rerun.

"It is, actually. You see, I was given a special medal by Mr. Latin himself, declaring me the most smartest talker in the history of the universe."

Bev rolls her eyes and starts the episode. Within seconds, they're trashing the chefs on the screen. 

\---

They're still trash talking the chefs three episodes later.

"You know, Ted Allen is lowkey daddy," Richie muses, mainly just for the shock value.

"No, he absolutely is not and now I'm mad at you for saying that."

They continue their commentary throughout the episode - after all, one of Richie's favorite things to do is talk over the TV - and eventually, they come to the dessert round.

"No! She is  _ not  _ going for the ice cream machine. That literally never ends well. I don't think I have ever seen it end well, and I have watched enough  _ Chopped  _ to make that statement bravely." Richie cradles his head in his hands, agonizing over the inevitable failure of this particular chef.

Shaking her head disapprovingly, Bev agrees. "She totally is. She just gave this competition away."

"This is a goddamn shame, Marsh. A  _ shame,  _ I tell you!"

The episode ends four minutes later, and the ice cream chef loses. 

"I can't believe she gave it all away just for some stupid ice cream!" Bev exclaims.

Richie nods exaggeratedly, adding, "Has she  _ never  _ seen an episode of  _ Chopped  _ before? Using the ice cream machine does  _ not  _ end well. Ever. That's just common knowledge"

They sit in silence for a moment as the next episode starts to load, but before it can Bev grabs the remote and exits out.

"Well, I hate to go to bed disappointed with an easily preventable  _ Chopped  _ loss, but it is late and I have class tomorrow morning, so adiós!" Bev makes her way down the hallway and walks into her room, gently shutting the door behind her. Richie lays his head back over the edge of the couch and takes a moment to just  _ think _ . About Eddie. About what Bev said. About too much.

He fixates on what Bev had said, her words playing distantly in his head.  _ When are you  _ **_and_ ** _ Eddie going to figure _ **_your_ ** _ shit out. _ What did she mean by that? Why was there the  _ and _ ? Richie was pretty positive that this whole crush/being-in-love-and-inevitably-stuck-on-your-best-friend thing was one sided, but what if he was wrong? What if Bev knew something more?  _ What if?  _

After playing the "What If" game for a solid fifteen minutes, he reluctantly peels himself off of the couch and heads to his room to grab a change of pajamas before heading to the shower. He figures a shower will do wonders to clear his mind of all Eddie-related thoughts. 

And okay, that  _ might  _ not actually work. He  _ might  _ spend the whole shower replaying the day in his head. He  _ might  _ jerk off while thinking about Eddie throwing his hand over his mouth earlier, but that's a private matter between Richie and little Richie. 

Regardless, after drying off and changing into an old t-shirt and pair of boxers, as he stretches out across his mattress, Richie realizes he is, in fact, completely and totally fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO thank you very very much for reading!! i plan on updating once a week but if i strike a particularly creative nerve i might drop a random update here and there.
> 
> come send me stuff on tumblr at gaystuartlittle!!
> 
> comments and kudos do in fact give me the validation and self confidence i lack, so anything you have to say is greatly appreciated!
> 
> ps someone wanna tell me why writing on google docs and then pasting here always adds a space before punctuation when using italics....... very annoying but i am not fixing it ❤️


	2. i just want to lay back and watch you pin me to the bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He gets dressed in the most horrendous outfit he can find, mostly because he knows Eddie will have something to say about it. Richie was put on this planet to provoke Eddie in every way possible, and if he gets to do that and wear clothes that don't match, then that's a double win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes it did take me one million years to update (or like a week and a half i guess but that's the same) so i apologize but i was busy being sexy

"Kiss me, Rich," Eddie said, his face mere inches from Richie's.

It took his brain a few moments to catch up with the situation, but then Richie surged forward, closing the gap and sealing their lips together. Eddie's lips were soft and sweet, tasting like vanilla chapstick. Richie figured his were probably neither soft nor sweet, considering they were constantly chapped; Eddie didn't seem to mind.

Eddie's lips left Richie's, but before he could whine about the loss, Eddie started peppering kisses down his jaw and neck. When he stopped to suck a mark into his collarbone, Richie let out a moan that he would be embarrassed about if he had any ability to think at this moment in time. Pulling his head up, Eddie shushed him, whispering, "You have to be quiet or you're gonna wake everyone else up," before pressing his palm over Richie's mouth. This was Richie's new favorite place for Eddie's hand to be.

Eddie kept trailing his lips lower, stopping to leave hickies sporadically across Richie's chest. At one point, he attached his lips to his left nipple, which happened to be the exact moment that Richie discovered how much he liked having Eddie's mouth on his nipples. Interesting information.

By this point, Eddie had arrived at the waistband of Richie's jeans; after a quick reassuring glance, he made quick work of the button and zipper, pulling the jeans off. Richie was so far gone at this point, and all he could do was watch as Eddie started to mouth over his hip bones. He left little bites here and there, and Richie couldn't wait to see the marks they would leave.

When Eddie moved his palm to cup Richie's cock through his briefs, Richie thought he had left his body and ascended to a higher astral plane. Eddie's hand was warm as he slowly palmed at Richie's erection, earning needy whines from Richie's throat. Slipping his fingers under the elastic waistband, Eddie pulled Richie's briefs down; his cock bobbed up, hard and aching for Eddie's touch. Soft fingers wrapped around it, thumbing over the head as Eddie started to stroke him slowly, loosely.  _ This  _ was his new favorite place for Eddie's hand to be.

"Fuck, Eds, how does that feel so good," Richie groaned, wanting to throw his head back in pleasure but not willing to take his eyes off of Eddie for even one second.

"Let me take care of you, Rich. Please." Eddie lowered his mouth, pressing a tentative kiss to the head of Richie's cock before opening his mouth to take him in. Eddie's mouth felt so warm and soft, and Richie had no choice but to squeeze his eyes shut as he let out a loud moan. He was just getting ready to open them again, to watch Eddie attentively, when they were interrupted by some unknown noise.

It was annoying and repetitive and slowly increasing in volume.  _ Is that the smoke alarm?  _ Richie wondered briefly, before his subconscious forced him to wake up and realize it was actually  _ his  _ alarm. Richie groaned in agitation as he lazily grabbed his phone to shut off the sound. 

\---

So, he was right. He was completely and totally fucked. Sex dreams about Eddie weren't abnormal per se, but that didn't make him feel any less guilty when they happen. He just feels like there's something intrinsically wrong about having weekly sex dreams about your best friend, even if you're in love with him (probably because Eddie doesn't know about the sex dream thing  _ or _ the love thing). His subconscious, and by extension his body, didn't seem to agree. They both were  _ very  _ interested in continuing to have these dreams.

After seven minutes of self-bargaining, Richie coaxes himself out of bed and into the shower. And yeah, he might use the shower to take care of his  _ problem  _ that was left over from his dream, but that is protected by the client confidentiality between him and his right hand. 

After about fifteen minutes, Richie hops out of the shower and dries himself off, toweling his hair briefly before just giving up and shaking his head dry. Bev always tells him that he looks stupid when he does that, but he doesn't really care. It's efficient, and more than that, it's  _ fun _ . On his way out of the bathroom, he catches his reflection in the mirror and flashes himself a smile and some finger guns, mumbling, "You sexy beast!" to himself. There's nothing wrong with starting the day with a little bit of self love.

When he gets back to his room, he sees a text in the Losers group chat about grabbing coffee before their classes start for the day. It's a typical thing for them to do; it started as a Monday treat to help them get the week started, but at this point, they met nearly every morning. He gets dressed in the most horrendous outfit he can find, mostly because he knows Eddie will have something to say about it. Richie was put on this planet to provoke Eddie in every way possible, and if he gets to do that  _ and  _ wear clothes that don't match, then that's a double win.

Bev is perched at the kitchen counter when he leaves his room. She's working on something in her sketchbook, probably a new design for one of her classes. Richie stands in the hallway for a second, watching her work. She's humming to herself as she draws, completely immersed in her own little fashion design world. It makes Richie happy seeing her in element.

"Miss Marsh, I do believe our presence has been requested at our nearest coffee saloon," Richie says in his subpar Southern debutante accent. Bev rolls her eyes immediately as she starts to pack up her sketchbook.

"A coffee saloon is not a thing, and also I know. I've been waiting for  _ you _ , slowpoke."

Richie scoffs and feigns insult, but he walks to the door nonetheless. 

\---

Outside, it's cool and crisp. It's mid-October, so it's not jacket weather yet, but Richie  _ can  _ get away with wearing layers again, which is exciting. He's currently wearing a turtleneck, a short sleeve t-shirt, and a hawaiian shirt all together, and none of them match.

"Have I ever told you that, as a fashion major, it's incredibly difficult being your friend?" Bev wonders aloud as they cross the threshold onto campus. The Losers have a favorite coffee spot that just so happens to be perfectly placed in relation to all of their respective major buildings. It's only a three minute walk to the communications building from there, which is good for Richie, since he is nearly always late. 

"I think you've mentioned it once or twice. But I must ask, Beverly, does fashion not encourage one to be daring with their attire?"

"Fashion encourages one to not dress with the matching skills of a four year old," Bev deadpans. Richie barks out a laugh at that. He has to admit, she's pretty accurate in her description. He dresses like a toddler let loose, and he's damn proud of that.

The walk from their apartment to the coffee shop is a short one, and they've arrived before Bev can harass him any further for his outfit choices. The café is bustling with a mix of students in a rush to get their caffeine before heading to class and students camped out with their laptops and textbooks to study. 

They get in line to place their orders, and Richie makes sure to order for Eddie, too. On Mondays, he has an early class and barely has time to sit and chat with them before heading to his next one, so Richie tries to remember to get his coffee for him because, well, he's whipped. Plus, when he orders it, he can pretend for just a moment that's he's ordering coffee for his  _ boyfriend _ , not just his hopeless crush.

They take their little number sign to their normal corner table where Mike, Stan, and Bill are already waiting. Stan looks positively miserable, third wheeling as Mike and Bill make eyes at each other. 

"Staniel Tiger! How goes it?" Richie asks with too much enthusiasm for a Monday morning.

"Is that a reference to  _ Daniel Tiger _ ? Why? I feel like that show came on way after we were young and you should not be proudly making connections to it." Richie shrugs while Stan pauses, and then he adds, "Good, I guess. I'm having lunch with Patty today so I'm pretty excited. Plus, I have my favorite class today, the one on accounting systems, which is another positive." By this point, Ben has joined them and sat himself next to Bev, leaning over to give her a kiss.

"That class does not sound like a positive - it sounds like my worst nightmare being graded. Also, I hate this entire group because you're all so in love that it's hard to tolerate you."

"Oh, and you aren't?" Bev counters, and Richie gives her a look that says  _ Shut it, Marsh. _ He realizes everyone probably knows since he's no good at keeping secrets, but it's the principle of the thing.

"Sorry, Richie. Do you want a kiss, too?" Ben asks, saving Richie from maybe having to talk about his own love life. Richie nods and grins when Ben leans over to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Alright, Bev. You better watch out. I'm gonna steal Benny Boy from you. I've already started slipping a potion into his drinks that's supposed to make someone gay, so it's only a matter of time before he's mine."

"I don't think  _ he's _ the one that's yours." Bev narrows her eyes, seeing right through Richie.

As if on cue, Eddie sidles up to the table, letting out a huff when he sits down next to Richie.

"Tough morning, Dr. Kaspbrak?" Richie asks, and now Bev gives him a look, this one saying  _ I told you so _ . He does his best to ignore her.

"I'm not a doctor yet, Richie. And yes, I am not good at molecular biology and I don't know why I have to take it to be a pediatrician. That's just stupid." As Eddie is complaining, one of the servers at the café comes up to their table and starts distributing drinks. Just as Eddie is adding an exasperated, "Fuck! I forgot to get in line and order my drink and the line is already so long," she places his order in front of him.

"Oh," he says softly. Richie smiles widely, looking up and saying, "What, Eds, you think I'd let you go the entire day without your coffee? Your brain would simply cease to exist without it's fast juice."

"Please don't call coffee fast juice," Stan groans. "I don't need you to ruin another good thing with a stupid name."

"You're boring, Standrew. It's called  _ creativity _ ," Richie insists, bringing his coffee to his lips. He almost misses the little grin on Eddie's face. Almost.

Richie turns to ask Eddie a question, probably something stupid and instigative; he usually doesn't really decide on what he's saying until it's already coming out of his mouth. Eddie beats him to it, though, snapping, "What the fuck are you wearing?"

"Oh, this little old thing? I'm just trying my hand at designer fashion," Richie says with a shit-eating grin, motioning downwards to his purple "I thought about being a stay-at-home mom, but then I realized the kids would be there too!" t-shirt, which is layered over a black and white striped turtleneck and under a short sleeve tropical frog print button up. He's also got on his black jeans that are absurdly old and have tears everywhere that he caused, some of which are covered by miscellaneous patches sewn on by Bev. His favorite patch is the one inconspicuously close to his crotch that looks like a penis disguised as a banana. 

"I cannot believe I let you hang out with me in public. It's like every single day you find a new way to dress like a confused baby."

"That's what I said!" Bev exclaims proudly, happy to have been backed up by someone.

"I resent the implication that babies don't understand color theory. And Ben, please control your woman," Richie says pointedly, and Bev flicks him off before redirecting her attention to Ben. Richie follows suit, redirecting his attention to Eddie.

"Alright, Eds. What's on the docket for today?" Richie takes a sip from his coffee, which is an elaborate, sugary drink covered with whipped cream. Eddie hates when he gets those, but they're so damn good, so Richie can't help it. Plus, it's always fun to irritate Eddie in another way. "Are you learning about how to doctor children? Perhaps taking a class in selecting the best brand of lollipops and types of stickers?"

Eddie rolls his eyes, reaching his hand out. He brings his thumb to Richie's top lip, swiping over it. "You had some whipped cream," he explains, licking it off of his thumb. Richie's heart falls out of his ass.

If Eddie could politely stop having his hands all over Richie's face, then maybe could more effectively control his gay yearning. However, Eddie does not seem to give a shit about that. Richie forgets every word he has ever learned, instead just staring at Eddie blankly. He's having a gay crisis in the middle of a goddamn coffee shop on a Monday morning. What a way to start his week.

He vaguely registers Eddie saying something, but he doesn't actually hear the words; his entire inner monologue is just  _ Eddie hands Eddie hands Eddie hands _ (which isn't much different than usual, since it's normally just  _ Eddie Eddie Eddie _ ). He snaps back to reality when he hears Eddie say his name.

"Hello? Earth to Richie? Are you still there or has your brain finally melted and slipped out of your ear?"

Richie is able to put himself back together enough to say, "I believe that is medically improbable, and you should know that considering you are learning how to do medicine stuff."

"Glad to know you're still with us! Anyway, I actually have to go now since my class starts soon." By soon he means in 32 minutes, but Richie knows it's a seven minute walk to the school of medicine, and he knows that Eddie likes to get to class 25 minutes early, so he gets it. Kind of. To him, though, being 25 minutes early sounds like torture.

Eddie says his goodbyes, mentioning something to Richie about texting him later, which Richie is greatly looking forward to considering he cannot process a single Eddie related thought at this moment. Mike and Bill follow after him since they actually do have class soon (as in, sooner than 32 minutes), and about five minutes later Ben heads out too, pressing a kiss to Beverly's forehead and ruffling Richie's hair before doing so. The second Ben leaves the table, Stan and Bev are staring at Richie.

"What?" Richie asks defensively. Or maybe cluelessly. He can't really tell what he's going for, he just knows he doesn't want to deal with it.

"Why are you being weirder than normal around Eddie?" Bev probes. Richie sighs and slumps back in his chair before glancing at Stan cautiously.

Stan stares back, quickly rattling off, "Yes, I know. No, no one told me. Yes, you are completely obvious about it. No, Eddie has no idea."

"Awesome. It's pretty epic that everyone seems to know by now," Richie says sarcastically, which earns him a sympathetic look from Bev.

"Not everyone knows. I can positively say that Bill doesn't know shit. Mike  _ might  _ know, but I wouldn't know since he's really good at keeping secrets for friends," Stan reassures Richie, but it only half helps.

"I don't know. I'm being so stupid about everything. I just - did you see when he reached up and cleaned the whipped cream off of my lip? What the fuck was that?! That's some rom-com level fuckery! He can't just do that to me and then not be interested!"

"How do you know he's not interested if you won't even talk to him about it," Bev counters. Richie narrows his eyes. "Well, see, it's simple: I actually don't want to lose him as a friend, so as much as I would love to kiss him, I'm fine just staying friends. I'll take whatever I can get."

"Okay, then why were you being weirder than normal  _ today _ ? I'm pretty sure you're no more in love with him than you have been for the past, like, ten years, so what is it now?" Stan apparently can see straight into Richie's soul. 

Richie feels a blush start to creep up his cheeks. He closes his eyes and braces himself before trying to casually say, "I may have had a sex dream about him last night."

"Oh, okay. Never mind then. I do not want to hear about this," Stan says reaching for his bag. Beverly stops him, reaching out and placing her hand over his wrist. She looks at Richie as if she's asking him to continue; RIchie is more than a little confused.

"I'm sorry, you look like you want me to say more? Are you asking me to describe my explicit, pornographic dreams about my best friend touching my dick? Is that what you're asking right now, Red?"

Stan grimaces lightly and Bev just gives him an annoyed look. "You know that's not what this look means. I want to know why it's suddenly different. I'm  _ positive _ you have had sex dreams about him before, considering I sleep on the other side of the same fucking wall as you."

Richie pauses sheepishly. "Okay, so he might have put his hand over my mouth last night in an attempt to shut me up while we were watching  _ Stuart Little _ ."

"There is so much to unpack there. First,  _ Stuart Little _ ?" Stan looks at him with disappointment in his eyes. Richie grins right back, saying, "It's a cinematic masterpiece, and also the most effective way to get your best friend that you're secretly in love with to put his hand over your mouth and fuel all of your sex dreams for the next 32 weeks."

"You are incorrect and also disgusting," Stan complains. 

"So what you're saying is Eddie has touched your mouth twice in the past 24 hours?" Bev questions, and Richie knows she's going somewhere with this, but he doesn't know where, so he just replies, "Yeah, but it's just best friend stuff!"

"Honey, I do not think platonic mouth touching is a thing. I think you need to get your head out of your ass."

"She's right. And as much as I hate to say this, both of those situations sound very sexually charged," Stan says, deflated from his admission.

"Whatever. I don't think they are. Friends touch other friends' mouths all the time."

Stan just stares back at Richie, seemingly dumbfounded by Richie's stupidity. "I have had several friends in this lifetime, and not a single one of them has  _ ever _ touched my mouth. Especially not twice in one 24 hour period." 

"Yeah, I can safely say the only friend I have ever had touch my mouth is Ben, and that was right before we started dating, so..."

"Are you guys trying to get me set up for heartbreak? I've spent the last half of my life trying not to read into the things Eddie does, and now you're telling me I actually should? This seems like a form of masochism."

"Look, babe, I'm just saying, you've never seen the way he looks at you. I'm at least 80% sure that if you asked him to not be 25 minutes early to his class, he would have sat here until the last possible second," Beverly says, absentmindedly stirring at her drink.

"Eddie? Eddie Kaspbrak? The same Eddie Kaspbrak that was just here? You think he would ever  _ not  _ be embarrassingly early to class? Do we know the same Eddie?" Richie says in an attempt to steer the conversation away from himself.

"Yes, that Eddie Kaspbrak. I have to go to class now, but I expect you to stop being a dumbass sometime soon. Ten years of pining is too fucking much, especially when the other person has felt the same way the  _ entire  _ time." Bev slings her bag over her shoulder and bids Stan and Richie goodbye, tossing out her empty coffee cup on the way out. Stan and Richie both start packing up their things as she leaves.

"She's right, you know. As hard as it is for you to believe, Eddie definitely feels some sort of way, and that way is not platonic. And I would greatly appreciate it if you could get that into your tiny brain, because if I have to walk in on Bill and Mike making out even  _ one  _ more time, I'm going to become actively homophobic."

"Why don't you just move in with Patty? Why do you have to wait?"

"Well, for one, we haven't been dating  _ that  _ long, and I also can't just leave Bill without a roommate. And Bill and Mike filled me in on the whole roommate swap plan, so the only thing we're waiting on is for you and Eddie to stop being fucking stupid."

"Maybe one day, Stanthony, but that day is not today. I'll see you later," Richie waves him off as he turns to head into the comm building for his television producer class.

He doesn't learn anything, though, because he spends the entire class thinking about what Stan and Bev had said. And maybe  _ also _ the fact that Eddie touched his lip that morning, but mainly just the Stan and Bev thing. Okay, fine, it was a 50/50 split. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have the entire three shirt combo that richie is wearing, and while i have never worn them together, i will be doing that once it is no longer extreme sweat season.
> 
> ANYWAY im gonna stick to a schedule and update every monday! that way i dont let time get away from me but also give myself enough time to write!!!!!!!!
> 
> i hope u enjoyed!! feel free to leave some comments or kudos or whatever because i eat them for breakfast


	3. i used to call you my best friend way back before you were my everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Game night was at Eddie, Ben, and Mike's since they had the biggest apartment. They had an assortment of games, but the night usually ended in them playing Truth or Drink, which usually ended in Richie either getting way too drunk or revealing way too much (or both, really). Tonight it was probably going to be the former, considering he was hyper aware of his Eddie-related secret.

It's been several days since the  _ incident  _ (you know, where Eddie put his hands on Richie's mouth twice within the span of 24 hours), but Richie was still thinking about it hourly. Luckily (or unluckily, he can't really decide), Eddie had refrained from touching Richie's mouth again, but that wasn't necessarily better. Now that Richie knows what it feels like to have Eddie's fucking hand on his own fucking mouth, he wants to feel it forever. 

He wasn't going to let this blow his cover, though. He's kept his secret for ten years, thank you very much. He does not intend to lose it all just because he's got some newly discovered hand kink (he knows it's actually just an  _ Eddie  _ kink, and that's it's not exactly newly discovered, but that's beside the point).

Richie has spent the past week busting his ass to act normal around Eddie. He didn't really understand why it was all of sudden so difficult to act like a real human in his presence, but it was. Everything he did in front of Eddie seemed like something an alien would do if they were pretending to be a person. Eddie had even made a comment or two about it, but Richie had just found some way to blow it off without too much conversation.

It was currently 5:34 on Friday evening, and Richie was sprawled out on the couch stressing about this while Bev was finishing up her baking. Richie had originally been helping, but once he stuck his finger into the cookie batter, she banished him to the living room. They had their biweekly game night with the Losers soon, and they were going to head out whenever Bev finished her cookies. Richie had  _ tried  _ to convince her to make some special brownies, but she refused in the name of their friends; Ben, Stan, and Eddie were all pretty staunchly anti-drug, though Richie was hellbent on getting Eddie to try weed at least  _ once _ . 

"Alright, Trashmouth, let's go," Bev said as she walked out of the kitchen, tupperware in hand. Richie jumped up from the couch to get the door for her like the real gentleman he is. "After you, Miss Marsh." Richie did a slight bow as he let her leave first before shutting and locking the door behind them.

Game night was at Eddie, Ben, and Mike's since they had the biggest apartment. They had an assortment of games, but the night usually ended in them playing Truth or Drink, which usually ended in Richie either getting  _ way too drunk  _ or revealing  _ way too much  _ (or both, really). Tonight it was probably going to be the former, considering he was hyper aware of his Eddie-related secret.

\---

"Good evening girls and gays!" Richie announced as he barged into the apartment. And then, as an afterthought, he added, "Oh, and also you, Ben." Ben gave him a nod of acknowledgement as Beverly went to set her cookies down and kiss him. Bill, Stan, and Patty had snuck in behind them, and Bill was currently greeting Mike with a kiss, too.

"Alright, Spaghetti. I guess we should kiss now," Richie jokes, walking over to Eddie and puckering up. Eddie sticks his hand out and pushes Richie's face away, saying, "You're unbearable." Richie is too wrapped up in his inner monologue to notice that Eddie's blushing, though. 

"You wound me, Eds."

Bill had brought the pizza, and as soon as everyone registered that, the paper plates were busted out. Richie had requested Hawaiian, as always. He doesn't order it because he likes it, because he's actually not incredibly fond of it, he just likes how annoyed Eddie gets at the idea of fruit on pizza. He'll do anything to get a rise out of him, even if it means never getting to eat pepperoni pizza.

"What's tonight's game, fellas?" Richie asks, situating himself on his usual chair. It's a wide, comfy chair that essentially could fit two people, and it does; Eddie always sits with him. Richie tries not to get too excited when he feels Eddie squeeze in next to him, their thighs pressed up next to each other. Once, when they were both  _ very  _ drunk, Eddie ended up sitting in Richie's lap, and if Richie hadn't had way too much alcohol coursing through his system, he would have definitely gotten embarrassingly hard and Eddie would have definitely felt it. Thank god for whiskey dick.

"Cards Against Humanity. We just got the absurd box, so we've gotta try it out," Mike answered from his spot next to Bill on the couch. They all had their unofficial-official seats: Bill and Mike (and previously Stan) on the couch, Bev and Ben on the floor, and now Stan and Patty on the floor, too. The four on the floor all sat on cushions ( _ Padded for her pleasure _ , Richie had joked), mainly because Ben didn't want Bev to have to sit on the hardwood, and then everyone else just followed suit. Ben had said he would happily buy another chair for the living room for Bev, but she insisted she was fine on the floor, so Ben had given up that fight. 

"I can't wait to kick all of your asses once again," Richie said with a grin. Eddie rolled his eyes and shoved at Richie's shoulder, prompting Richie to proclaim, "What? It's not my fault I'm the funniest one here!"

"Your ego has gotten too big. You are not funny in the slightest." Eddie punctuates his sentence with a bite from his pizza, and Richie huffs. "Hey! You laugh at my jokes more than anyone else here. Are you saying you don't have a good sense of humor?"

"I'm saying I give you pity laughs."

"Okay, that hurts. You've found the only way to truly hurt my feelings."

\---

Once all of the paper plates were thrown away and the coffee table was cleared, Bev starts to deal the cards out and Mike gets the alcohol.

"Alright, you know the normal rules. You take a shot when you win a round, we stop when someone has five cards and if that person is not Richie, we laugh and point." Richie flicks Bev off, even though he's not too scared about that person not being him. 

Sure enough, an hour later Richie is declared the winner. He's got five of the winning cards and has downed five shots to account for those wins. He's in the middle of gloating to the rest of the group when Bill suggests the inevitable.

"Truth or drink time?"

"We play this game like every damn week, is there really anything left that we don't know about each other?" Stan deadpans. His eyes catch Richie's, though, and Stan promptly shuts his mouth. Mike passes beers to the rest of the group; it was  _ definitely  _ time for Richie to switch to something lighter than vodka.

Ben places his empty beer bottle on its side in the center of the coffee table. "Who wants to go first?"

Bev jumps at the opportunity, always loving an opportunity to ask an invasive question, even though she normally already knows the answer anyway (that sneaky little red-headed minx knows how to get anything out of anyone). She spins the bottle and it lands on Bill. Without even pausing to think, she asks, "Have you and Mike ever fucked anywhere outside of your room at you and Stan's apartment?"

Mike averts his eyes and Bill blushes immediately, which is pretty much an answer in and of itself. "Maybe once or twice."

"Oh you have  _ got  _ to be fucking kidding me. Dude, you better have disinfected that shit afterwards." Stan grimaces and Mike looks apologetic. Bill doesn't look that sorry, though, as he reaches to spin the bottle. It starts slowing down as it nears Richie, and he holds his breath in fear. Luckily it drifts past him and stops on Eddie instead. He guesses that's kind of better.

"When was the last time you got fucked?"

"We are not holding back tonight on the questions, huh?" Eddie asks, stalling. Then, "Last weekend. Some guy in my Chem 210 class."

Richie tries not to tense up, considering he's sitting so close to Eddie that he would feel it. He can tell that several pairs of eyes are on him, which makes him more embarrassed, especially since he thought he was at least semi-decent at keeping his whole feelings thing a secret.

His eyes stay locked on the bottle as Eddie reaches forward to spin it. He doesn't really want any sympathetic looks right now, and he  _ knows  _ that's what he'll get if he lifts his eyes up a few feet. The bottle twirls around before slowing on the table, tilting just slightly until it lands on Richie. Because  _ of fucking course _ it's going to land on him when it's Eddie's turn.

Eddie looks at Richie and thinks for a moment, as if he's sizing him up. Then he opens his mouth and asks, "Anyone you're into right now?"

_ Oh yeah, you. _

All of Richie's self control is focused on not blushing and not saying the real answer, since both would effectively say the same thing. He puts on a brave Trashmouth face and answers.

"Nope, you know me - I can't be tied down. It's not fair to the ladies and gentlemen of the world to only let one person experience ol' Dick Tozier!"

Eddie scrunches his face up and gives Richie a look of disbelief. Richie tries to reach out for the bottle, hoping to move this along, but Eddie's hand stops him. "Come on, dude. It's called  _ truth or drink _ . If you're not gonna tell the truth you at least have to drink."

Richie weighs his options. He could double down on this whole no crush thing, but that technically is a lie and he's too drunk to keep up with a lie right now, even if it is such a simple one. 

He raises his beer to his lips, taking a big gulp as he holds eye contact with Eddie. Then he wraps his fingers around the empty bottle on the table and spins, grinning when it lands on Ben (half because the attention is no longer focused on him and half because he can't wait to ask Ben an incredibly specific sexual question to get him all flustered).

"Alright Haystack, what's the kinkiest thing you've ever done in bed with Bevvie here?"

Ben blushes immediately, eyes going to Bev as if to ask permission. She just shrugs, and after a brief pause he takes a deep breath, quietly admitting, "Bondage."

"Oooohhhh! Haystack gives it good, huh? Or are  _ you  _ the one tied up? I have so many questions about this. This is my favorite information ever," Richie rushes out. Beverly pipes up now, declaring, "One question per turn! Ben answered, now he's in the clear, dick!"

Ben goes to spin the bottle, which lands on Stan. The game continues in that fashion, with invasive sexual questions and a lot of revealed secrets, and by the end they're all pretty trashed. Bill and Mike are the first to disappear, hands all over each other as they slink into Mike's room to presumably have very drunk sex. Stan and Patty set up shop on the couch, and after Ben decides there's no point in trying to clean anything tonight, he and Bev head off to his room. Richie is curled up and ready to third wheel with Patty and Stan, but Eddie stares at him blankly from where he's standing.

"Aren't you coming?"

"What?" Richie asks, too drunk and confused for the obvious  _ coming  _ joke there.

"To my room. You're too lanky to sleep in that tiny ass chair, and I'm pretty sure Patty and Stan don't really want you here either," Eddie says at a fast pace, since apparently not even copious amounts of alcohol can slow down his speech.

"Hey! Pan and Statty  _ do  _ want me here!"

"Not our names, and sorry to say, but we don't really," Stan answers from the couch, where his head is thrown back and his eyes are already closed. Patty seems to have already drifted off, curled into his chest. It's cute, but Richie doesn't have the brain (or emotional) capacity to acknowledge that right now.

"Yeah. So just come with me, dumbass," Eddie says, turning to walk to his room. Richie figures it will only require more explaining if he tries to fight this more, so he gives up and follows Eddie. He's shared a bed with Eddie plenty of times, and this would be no different; pretty much every single time they've slept in the same bed, Richie has been in love with him and keeping it a secret, so why can't he just continue to do it tonight? 

They share a bed more than most 20 year old friends do, but that's just because they're so close. It's normal for them. It's just something friends do. Richie reminds himself of this as he plops down, face-first, onto Eddie's bed. He's perfectly content to pass out, but Eddie shoves him lightly.

"Dude, you cannot sleep in my bed in jeans. I don't want to accidentally touch fucking denim in the middle of the night," Eddie complains.

"It's already past 1 AM, so you won't."

"Don't be a smartass, idiot. Just take them off."

"Trying to get me out of my pants, Eds?" Richie jokes halfheartedly, sitting up to comply with Eddie's request. He successfully wrestles his jeans off without getting out of bed, and he's getting ready to close his eyes when he accidentally shifts his focus to Eddie. 

Eddie, who is in the middle of changing into his pajamas. Eddie, who is standing in front of Richie in his fucking briefs. Eddie, who is wearing one of Richie's fucking worn-in, ridiculous shirts (this one says  _ Sorry I missed our kid's birthday party, I was too busy melting scrap metal _ ), so giant on his small frame that it looks like a dress. As Richie stares at him, he can't help but think about how this is something that boyfriends do. Sharing a bed, while one of them is wearing the other's clothes. He squeezes his eyes shut to chase those thoughts away.

He averts his eyes as he lays back down, eyes zeroing in on a spot on Eddie's ceiling. A few moments pass before Richie feels the bed dip a little, signalling Eddie climbing into bed. They're both under the covers now, and Richie can feel Eddie's warmth radiating from his skin. He wants more than anything to turn over and envelop Eddie's body with his own, embracing him tightly until they both drift off to sleep. Or even to just reach out and hold his hand. Any kind of skin to skin contact will do for him.

He's half asleep and lost in his own thoughts when he hears Eddie quietly say, "Rich, you know you can tell me if you're into someone, right? I'm not gonna tell anyone else or anything."

The room is painfully silent as Richie waits to answer. He could just pretend to be asleep, but Eddie knows Richie doesn't fall asleep that quickly. He'd know.

"Yeah, I know."

Richie expects that to be it, expects Eddie to go to sleep and have dreams of that stupid guy from his Chem 210 class or whatever, but Eddie speaks again.

"I mean, you're my best friend. I want to be there for you."

The words pierce through his chest. They ring in his ears, reminding him of the truth. 

Richie inhales shakily, saying, "Yeah. Best friends."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i said i would update and yes it is actually wednesday but that's just me baby. i'm chronically late!!!!! i run on caroline time.
> 
> uhhhhhhh anyway i hope u are enjoying this so far. this chapter was a lil short bc for some reason the words were simply not flowing. i might adjust this to have less chapters by combining some things on the outline so that each chapter has more stuff in it, but idk yet! we shall see!
> 
> come say words to me on tumblr at gaystuartlittle (that's right, i changed my user to something legendary)


	4. now i'm fucked up and carrying on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Okay, that's it. I'm downloading Grindr," Richie declares as he stomps into the living room.

Richie awakes the next morning with a pounding headache. The first thing he does is throw his arms over his eyes and decide never to drink again. The next thing he does, though, is remember where he is. 

Eddie's bed. But, like, just platonically. But still Eddie's bed. 

Eddie has already gotten up; he's probably been up for a few hours by now. The sheets smell like him, though, and Richie allows himself to just exist there for a moment. To just lay there without acknowledging all of the terms and conditions of his situation. Before he rolls over to get up, he realizes he probably didn't plug in his phone last night and therefore it was going to be dead. Turning to face the nightstand, he is met with a pleasant surprise. His phone, plugged in, with two Advil and a glass of water. The clock reads 11:37 AM, and his battery is at 72%, which means Eddie found it and plugged it in this morning.

Richie tries not to read into that. Plugging in someone's phone is  _ not  _ a sign of romantic feelings; it's just a sign of being a good friend. He swallows the pills before dragging himself out of the bed to head into the kitchen. It's then that he notices he's just wearing his boxers and a t-shirt. He vaguely remembers taking off his jeans last night, but it's still a little jarring, realizing he was sleeping so exposed next to  _ Eddie _ . 

Everyone is spread out throughout the kitchen and living room. When Richie walks in, only Bill looks up to give him a nod of acknowledgement. Richie just nods back, not really in the mood for a hungover conversation. Everyone looks more or less like shit, and it becomes  _ very  _ clear that Richie is not the only one who got tanked last night.

Richie sidles up to the kitchen counter, leaning over it and watching Eddie scramble some eggs. He's so focused that his little tongue is peeking out from the corner of his mouth, which is one of Richie's favorite Eddie faces. 

"Glad you're alive," Eddie mutters without taking his eyes off the eggs.

"It takes more than a few drinks to take out the Trashmouth!"

"Here, these are for you." Eddie dumps some of the eggs onto a plate for Richie, sitting two pieces of bacon next to it before sliding the plate across the counter. Richie's heart swells.

"I should have known you'd be the type to make breakfast for someone after sleeping with them," Richie jokes in an attempt to ease the tension in his chest. Eddie doesn't grace him with an answer, though; instead, he just cracks a few more eggs onto the hot pan and starts the scrambling process over again. 

After grabbing the syrup from the fridge, Richie starts to eat. 

"Why do you need the syrup? There is literally nothing requiring syrup on that plate," Eddie complains. Richie just grins before dipping a piece of bacon in the syrup and shoving it into his mouth. Eddie gags, which just makes Richie's smile wider.

"You should try it, Eds. Perfect combination of savory and sweet."

"I can't believe you would do that to my cooking. Get out of my house." There's no real malice behind Eddie's words, though, which is only emphasized when Eddie grabs his own plate and sits next to Richie.

"Did you know you still talk in your sleep?" Eddie asked absentmindedly. Richie's heart stops for a moment; he dreams about Eddie  _ a lot _ , so the odds that he said something about him are pretty high. He can never remember his dreams when he's hungover, though, so he has no way of knowing if he said something incriminating.

"Oh, sorry. I know you didn't want to be woken up with my moans about your mom," Richie deflects.

"You suck."

"Well so does Sonia."

"I don't know why I'm friends with you anymore. You are literally unbearable."

"Oh come on, we're not just friends. We're  _ soulmates _ , Eddie Spaghetti!" Richie picks nervously at his eggs as he jokes. He's getting too close to the truth, or at least the truth he  _ wants _ , but he can't help it. The joke had come out of his mouth before he could think it through.

"Wait a second - I thought my mom was your soulmate? You're really gonna cheat on her?"

"It pains me to do so, Eds, but I have to. You're the one who truly holds my heart!"

Moments later, Stan comes trudging into the kitchen, and Richie has never been so grateful. If he had just a few more minutes alone with Eddie, there's no guessing what he would have said. He just hopes he didn't say anything that was  _ too much _ already. Eddie's acting normal enough, though, so Richie forces it out of his mind for now.

\---

"Okay, that's it. I'm downloading Grindr," Richie declares as he stomps into the living room where Bev had been watching reruns of  _ Project Runway  _ on the couch ( _ Some of the designers are actually good, Richie! Plus, the drama is top notch! _ ). She pauses the show and gives him an expectant look, clearly waiting for further explanation.

"Well, seeing as last night I literally  _ slept in Eddie's bed _ and didn't get so much as a playful smooch, I think it's safe to say it's time to move on."

"I get that you didn't get any action, but don't just overlook the fact that Eddie let you sleep in his bed. Like he always does. Which is not a very Eddie-like thing." Bev tosses some popcorn in her mouth to punctuate her sentence.

"That's just something friends do!"

"Oh, honey. I'm pretty sure if any of the rest of us even  _ touched  _ his bed, he'd get mad. He doesn't like people in his space like that."

Richie scoffs. "You're overexaggerating. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if  _ Stan _ touched his bed."

"Okay, sure, but that's because Stan is also neat and organized and not a total disaster. You, however, are the definition of a total disaster. Like, when was the last time you washed your hair?"

"Six days ago. But don't tell Eddie or he will be so mad that I used his pillow last night."

"Case in point! Eddie  _ definitely  _ knows that it's been a hot minute since you washed your hair. Because, see, he knows  _ you _ . He knows that you are not necessarily the most hygienic person he knows, and he still  _ wants  _ you to sleep in his bed."

"He doesn't  _ want _ me to, he just lets me," Richie argues, earning an eye roll from Bev.

"Whatever. Let me help you make your profile, then."

Oh, yeah. Grindr. Richie had gotten so distracted by their conversation that he had forgotten the actual point of it. He clicked on the app on his phone, pulling it up.

"Alright, Marsh. Do your worst."

They sat there for a solid ten minutes arguing about which pictures to put. Bev wanted him to put several pictures that showed his whole entire face, which he was not enthusiastic about, but he eventually caved and let her do it. Ultimately, he was swayed by the fact that those selfies really "highlighted how fucking broad and hot" he was (Bev's words, not his). 

"Alright, how's this for a bio: my friends call me trashmouth. wanna find out why?"

Bev wrinkled her nose. "Gross," and then, "but also perfect for Grindr, I guess."

After another three minutes of arguing about what else to put in his bio, they finally agree upon a finished product. It was pretty clear from his profile that he was just looking for hookups. And that  _ was  _ all he wanted. He just needed to sleep with a few guys to get his mind off of Eddie and then he would be good again. His brain wouldn't be so fucking focused on fucking his short, mouthy best friend.

He ends up finding some random guy to sext that night, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't thinking of Eddie the whole time.

\---

When he checks his phone the next morning, he sees he's gotten  _ sixteen  _ different messages on Grindr. He's not sure if that actually is a lot, but it's a fuckton to him. He also sees that he's got twenty three minutes before Eddie comes over for another day of doing nothing. It's become their Sunday thing at this point, a nice way to destress before the week. 

Richie shuffles through his drawers, trying to find the perfect shirt. He eventually lands on an old gray t-shirt that says "Sorry I missed our kid's birthday party, I was too busy melting scrap metal." It's a personal favorite of his, and it  _ always  _ draws some irritated comment out of Eddie.

He's in the bathroom pretending to do something about his bird's nest that he calls hair when he hears a knock at the door. Eddie always knocks, which Richie thinks is stupid because he has a key. He considers refusing to answer the door so that Eddie will  _ have  _ to use his key, but he knows that will just make Eddie mad, and not in the fun way.

When he swings the door open, he sees that Eddie brought food. Which, again, that's just something friends do. His heart shouldn't speed up as much as it does.

Eddie walks past him to enter the apartment. He sets the food down on the coffee table and plops down onto the couch instantaneously, and Richie tries to ignore how much Eddie seems to be at  _ home _ . Richie joins him, sliding in right next to him. Their thighs are touching. Richie has to focus to level his breathing.

"Okay, now don't get too fucking cocky about what I'm about to say," Eddie says, and Richie is already beyond excited. "But I want to watch  _ The Spiderwick Chronicles _ . You were right about  _ Stuart Little  _ being enjoyable, so let's just fucking rip the bandaid off and watch the stupid movie."

"Oh, Eddie. I am so glad that you are ready to admit my superior movie taste."

"Not what I said, dumbass."

"Anyway, let's! This is a fantastic movie. Did you know Seth Rogen  _ and  _ Martin Short were in it? Like, talk about an all star cast!"

"I'm pretty sure you said the same exact thing about  _ Stuart Little _ . Anyway, here's your food." Eddie hands Richie a take out container from Noodles & Company, and Richie's heart flutters some more. It's one of Richie's favorite places to eat, and the fact that Eddie remembered that  _ and  _ remembered his order is too much for him to handle right now. 

"Oh, thanks, man!" Richie says because he can't think of anything else, but it feels weird to just be quiet.

"I also got you one of their rice krispies. I chose the biggest one, too."

Richie brings both of his hands to his chest. "A man after my own heart."

"Okay, can you start the movie before I change my mind and leave?"

Richie queues it up  _ The Spiderwick Chronicles  _ on Netflix and presses play, already  _ enthralled _ .

"Okay, so this movie is the best. It's got a really cool fantasy element to it. I can't believe it's not considered a classic."

"Whatever you say..." Eddie sounds skeptical, but he's staring at the screen with rapt attention, so Richie counts it as a win.

"Okay, see, I've always wondered what that circle was made of, because they say it's made of mushrooms, but later on, we see someone walking on it? Like you can't just walk on mushrooms like it's a path. It bothers me every single time I watch this."

"Richie. How often do you watch this?"

"At least once a year, but normally more." He stares into Eddie's horrified eyes, and adds, "What? It's a really good movie! Just wait. You'll agree with me."

Eddie shrugs, but Richie is convinced that he's that right.  _ The Spiderwick Chronicles  _ is unmatched, and Eddie  _ will  _ admit that before the end of the day.

"Okay, see, this part always drives me nuts. She's like, she's crying because her hair is being pulled since it's tied to the bed, you know? But here's the thing - if she just scooted closer to the headboard, her hair would not be pulled as much. Like, why does no one think of that?" Richie remarks.

"A surprisingly insightful comment." 

"Oh, we're about to meet my favorite character. Just wait. He's the fucking best."

On the screen, a tiny green monster appears. He's seething with rage, yelling at the main character for being irresponsible.

"It's like you and me, Eds!" Richie points out, and Eddie shoves at him before conceding that he's right.

Then the little monster is given a bottle of honey and he suddenly just… calms down. He turns back into what basically looks like a miniature person. Like, we're talking the size of a babydoll. 

"If I give you honey next time you're ranting, will it calm you down too?"

"No. I will squeeze it in your face and then keep being mad."

"Okay, sounds fair. But isn't Thimbletack the best?"

"His name is  _ Thimbletack? _ " Eddie asks, mouth open in shock.

"Yeah. I'm thinking if I have kids, that's the first one's name. Then the second can be Stuart. And the third would be Onceler."

"Don't have kids."

The rest of the movie continues in the same fashion, with Richie making the dumbest comments he can think of, and Eddie telling him just how dumb his comments are. There's a brief moment where Richie makes a spectacle about the introduction of Seth Rogen's character, but Eddie thinks the little warthog-goblin-thing is disgusting and is not even slightly charmed.

They're about two-thirds of the way through the movie when Richie gets up to go to the bathroom. While in there, he vaguely hears Eddie yell something that sounds like, "I'm putting your phone on do not disturb," and he doesn't think twice about it. Not until he walks back into the living room to find Eddie still looking at his home screen.

"Grindr, huh?" Eddie says. Richie can't read his tone, which is abnormal. He can usually see right through Eddie. 

"Yeah, your mom just wasn't cutting it anymore," Richie bluffs. His heart is in his throat, and he hears ringing in his ears. He feels like he could honestly just pass out right here and now. 

"Well, just so you know, Daniel wants you to, uh, 'destroy his hole'. His words, not mine." Richie guesses this is what hell feels like. He also whites out for a minute when he hears Eddie say those words.

Richie laughs awkwardly as he walks back to the couch. When he sits down next to Eddie this time, he distances himself a little; their thighs aren't touching anymore. Eddie still has his phone, though, and he's now swiping through the pictures on Daniel's profile.

"Hey, this doesn't seem like a bad offer. I mean, I'm no top, but I'm guessing this is the type of ass you would drool over." Eddie is so  _ casual  _ about it, seemingly having no qualms about the situation at all. Richie wants to say  _ your ass is the only one I drool over _ , but the entire point of joining Grindr was so he could stop thinking that. Now doesn't seem like the time to bring it up, anyway.

"Rich, you've got so many messages. These people want you to  _ wreck _ them, holy shit." Eddie scrolls through the DMs Richie has gotten, stopping to click on a few. Before Richie's brain can catch up and stop him, Eddie clicks on the conversation with the guy from last night. There's an unread message that says, "Hey daddy ;)" and Richie knows Eddie just wants to crack a joke about that or something. 

Instead, he is  _ immediately  _ met with a picture of Richie's dick. More specifically, a picture of Richie's dick moments after he had cum. All of the air seems to be sucked out of the room at that moment. Richie is bright red, and while he can't bring himself to actually look, he's pretty sure Eddie is, too. He's stopped making comments, at least. He's just sitting there, stock still, with the phone still in his hand. He hasn't even clicked out of the conversation.

After what feels like seven hours, Eddie tosses the phone into Richie's lap and starts apologizing profusely. Richie forces his brain to shut up so that he can just laugh it off. 

"Dude, it's fine! I mean, are we really best friends if you haven't even seen one of my dick pics?" Richie laughs, and Eddie seems to relax a little. Enough to let out a laugh of his own, at least.

"I would argue that was more obscene than a regular dick pic."

He's not wrong, considering the fact that his hand and dick had been covered in his cum. It's a little uncomfortable to think about the fact that Eddie  _ saw  _ that. Don't get him wrong, Richie had always hoped for Eddie to see one of his dick pics and be rendered speechless, but this wasn't exactly the situation he had fantasized about. 

"Come on, you have a dick! I'm pretty sure you have seen similar things before."

"Not, uh,  _ yours _ ." Eddie motions to Richie crotch, which is trying valiantly to get hard. For once in his life, though, Richie is actually able to control his dick, so he's able to avoid making this situation even more embarrassing.

They're both quiet for a moment, just staring at each other, before redirecting their attention to the movie. Richie's not sure he's going to be able to pay attention anymore though.

The rest of the movie is completely silent. Richie doesn't think he's ever been around Eddie and gone this long without at least one of them saying something. It's weird, and it's tense, and it's definitely not going to just go away, as much as Richie wants it to.

When the credits roll for the movies, Richie decides he should say something. 

"Hey, really dude, don't worry about it. It's just my dick. Let's not make things weird when it was basically nothing."

"I mean, it wasn't  _ nothing _ ," Eddie says, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Richie wishes he could say he was unaffected by such a minor comment, but he can't. His cock gives a kick in his sweats.

"Damn! Eds gets off a good one! An extra good one, I might add, because you have fueled my ego a lot."

"Shut up. But yeah, I don't think things should be weird either. Let's just, uh. Let's just move on. I mean, I shouldn't have been scrolling through your messages anyway."

"Whatever, it's no big deal." Richie pauses, searching for a way to change the subject. He almost lets out a sigh of relief when Eddie says, "Wanna watch  _ Community _ ?"

Things return to normal after that. They eventually end up sitting as close as they were before, and their thighs are touching again. They're both goofing off and making comments about the show as they watch. It's almost as if nothing weird happened at all. Almost. 

\---

Later that night, Richie wanders into Bev's room.

"So, Eddie saw my dick today."

Bev stops what she was doing on her laptop, directing her attention to Richie. "Elaborate."

"He, uh, he was going to put my phone on do not disturb because it kept going off, but the messages were all from Grindr. Anyway, after the initial shock, he was scrolling through the messages people had sent me, and even clicking on a few, when he, uh. He clicked on one I had last night with someone, and then right there, in his face. My dick, post-orgasm."

"Not the situation I wanted. But okay, good to know. Am I allowed to say whatever I want, or are you going to get mad?"

"It's hard to gauge how mad I'm gonna get if I don't know what you're gonna say. Whatever. Just say it."

"He seemed very distracted when he got back to his apartment. Dazed, almost. He just walked right to his room and shut the door, before coming out moments later and taking a shower. Ben and I didn't think anything of it at the time, but now that I have some more context..." 

"I'm sure it was something else." Richie can't help but hope that she was right, though. "Alright, well I'm peacing out. Just thought I'd update you on my homosexual fiasco!"

When Richie gets back to his room, he shucks off his sweatpants and t-shirt, leaving him in just his boxers. He opens Grindr, looking to find someone to help him get off before he passed out for the night. He was scrolling through some guys rather absentmindedly when he saw him. Right there. On his screen.

Eddie.

What's the protocol on finding your best friend that you're in love with on Grindr, when you only downloaded Grindr in the first place to stop thinking about him so much? 

He ultimately decides to just go to sleep. The thought of Eddie looking for hookups isn't exactly thrilling for his boner, anyway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so. i am very sorry for the wait between updates! my classes started on the 24th, and i'm busier than i thought i would be. that being said, i am probably going to switch to updating this fic every other week. i have to write A Lot this semester (i'm in three writing heavy classes where i'm writing original scripts/pitches for shows/etc) and obviously that's my priority since like. school.
> 
> BUT i am still gonna be writing this! i apologize for the change of pace, but i'm just trying to be reasonable alkhfslas especially since i'm also tragically bad at following a schedule.
> 
> anyway. THANK U for reading! it means so much!! kudos and comments satisfy my praise kink so if u are so inclined... i'd love them


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